


The Best Laid Plans

by Cheree_Cargill



Series: The Castaways [5]
Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Alternate Universe - Wolves, Castaways, F/M, Pon Farr, Vulcan Culture, scientists - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-01
Updated: 2019-08-01
Packaged: 2020-07-28 20:38:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 11,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20070235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cheree_Cargill/pseuds/Cheree_Cargill
Summary: Spock has begun to go into pon farr, but there is a problem this time.  Christine has passed the age of child-bearing and the Mating will likely kill her.  They have to find a solution that will allow both Spock and Christine to survive here on Avalon, which is too far from Vulcan for them to return.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> DISCLAIMER: The Star Trek characters are the property of Paramount Studios, Inc. The story contents are the creation and property of Cheree Cargill and is copyright (c) 2019 by Cheree Cargill. This story is Rated R.
> 
> This is a sequel to "The Castaways" by Cheree Cargill.

Smiling with satisfaction, Spock slipped onto the bed beside his sleeping wife. The kids were all off to school, he and Christine had the day off, and he was looking forward to an uninterrupted day of lovemaking and companionship with the woman who had been at his side for over 20 years. She was turned with her back to him, clad in a filmy nightgown, breathing steadily in her sleep.

Spock snuggled against her, still dressed and above the covers, and nuzzled against her neck, kissing her softly. Christine murmured and wriggled a little away from him, not yet awake. He persisted, moving his nose against her ear and kissing behind it.

She shrugged. "Stop," she managed to say.

"Why?" he responded and pulled her tighter, running his tongue over the curve of her ear. "We are alone. I desire thee, _t'hyla_."

"I wanna sleep," she mumbled. "Tired."

"Sleep afterwards," Spock answered and proceeded to plant his mouth on the side of her neck, sucking hard at her flesh.

Christine flung her right arm up in a feeble attempt to ward him off. She was grudgingly awake now. "Spock, I'm tired! I want to sleep!"

Normally, he would have complied with her, but he had begun to feel decidedly aggressive and aroused. He pinned her to him and said, "Wife, I desire thee. It is my wish that you have sex with me."

Something in his voice warned her against resisting his advances any further. Christine lay still then asked, "May I go to the bathroom first?"

The Vulcan released her and Christine got up from the bed, walking into the fresher unit, closing the door behind her. While she was gone, he rose, stripped off his clothing, and got back into the bed, naked and impatient. When she came back, she stopped resolutely beside the bed and pulled the nightgown over her head, then got under the covers beside him.

Spock wasted no time, but rolled over and took her in his arms, seizing her mouth and kissing her roughly. "I have wanted you so much," he murmured in his deep voice. "We have hours and I have longed to join with you. I can wait no longer."

He had been fondling her breasts, squeezing them and pulling at her nipples, then ran his hand down over her abdomen and between her legs. To his consternation, she was dry, not at all prepared for him. Rubbing her private parts failed to generate the oil of readiness and he raised his head and looked at her quizzically.

"Wait," she said in reply and reached into the bedside table's drawer to retrieve a little tube. "Give me your hand." When he did so, she squeezed a dollop of cream onto his fingers. "Okay, use that. It's lubricant."

Spock slipped his fingers back down between her legs and was gratified to feel her clitoris and labia instantly become soft and moist. He probed into her vagina, spreading the cream and felt her become slippery and pliable.

With a little growl, he slid his fingers in and out of her until he determined she was ready. Then he moved on top of her, spreading her thighs, and pushed his erection fully into her passage. It didn't take long before he was thrusting furiously into her, while she lay passively beneath him and held him lightly, her eyes closed. He didn't seem to notice, only intent on achieving his own satisfaction. When he finally slammed into her and came, he was oblivious to the fact that Christine had not been aroused at all.

Finished but still within her, Spock raised himself on his forearms and looked down at her, only now comprehending his wife's silent face. "What's wrong?" he asked.

"Nothing."

"Something is wrong," he replied, lifting himself off of her and moving to the side. "You did not enjoy it."

"No. I did not enjoy it." She rolled her head to the side, looking away. There was moisture at the corner of her eye.

"I intended to please you, Christine," he protested.

"Well, you didn't. You were horny and wanted to fuck, that's all." Her brows had lowered.

Spock sat up in bed, the sheet falling to his hips, as he learned over to peer at her. "What is wrong with you? You have never been like this before."

"Okay," she snapped back and pushed her pillow up so she could lean against it, sitting up and crossing her arms across her breasts. "Let's talk about this, Spock." Her blue eyes were bright as she turned to look at him. "How far are you from your next _pon farr_?"

That took him aback. "Approximately one year and four months."

"I think you've miscalculated. I think it's a lot sooner than you think."

"No…" But his gaze turned inward as he instantly ran the dates again in his mind. He realized that he was still thinking in Earth and Vulcan time. Avalon had a longer year, fifteen turns of its three moons. His eyebrows went up. "You are correct, Christine! We have only a few weeks to prepare."

"Less than that, if the way you've been acting is any indication," Christine answered. "You only get like this when you're coming up on it fast. And we've got some pretty serious problems to think about. Do you realize how old I am?"

"Of course. You are fifty-nine Earth years," he replied.

"Yes, exactly. And I'm past menopause now," she stated. "I cannot conceive another child, nor would I want to. You're still in the prime of your life, Spock, but I'm beginning to enter old age. Oh, I'm still young enough for a Human and I feel okay, but not for that. Honey, do you remember your last _pon farr_ when the twins were conceived? You injured me so badly that we both ended up in the hospital for several days. That was six years ago. I can't go through that again. I won't survive it."

She got up and bent to retrieve her nightgown, pulling it on. Then she paced away, her arms still crossed. "Spock, I'm going to tell you something that your mother told me shortly after that, when I was at home recovering. She said she'd never told you about how she and Sarek got through the rest of his times."

Her husband was attending her closely, puzzled.

Christine turned back to face him. "She told me that when it got to the point that she couldn't physically take it anymore, they hired a surrogate."

Spock's brows shot up even higher. "I don't believe you!"

Christine's brows shot up too. "You think I'm lying to you? Contact your father and ask him directly. It's time that we did, too, Spock. You know how _pon farr_ works. You won't come out of it until conception occurs, and I can't conceive any longer! You will kill me, literally." She shook her head. "No, it's time. Contact Sarek and ask for his help. He'll know how to arrange it and we'll have time to get the surrogate here from Vulcan before it's too late."

Spock didn't answer but the color had drained from his face and slowly he nodded in concession. They had no choice.

* * *

Sarek's face on the viewscreen was like granite. Christine could not decide if he was shocked, offended, or simply trying to ignore their questions. Finally, one eyebrow shifted fractionally and he said, "And how did you come to ask this of me?"

"Because we need your help, Father," Christine replied. "Before her death, Amanda told me that it was necessary for you and her to hire a surrogate in order to prevent extensive injury to her body. That time has come for us, too."

"We do not speak of this, Daughter," the elderly Vulcan answered. "It is taboo."

"Taboo be damned!" the Human woman snapped. "We need--"

"Wife," Spock broke in quietly. "Please leave us. I would speak to my Father alone."

Flustered but realizing that she was projecting too much emotion, Christine got up and left the room, shutting the door hard behind her.

"My apologies for my wife, my Father," Spock continued softly, eyes cast down away from the screen. "She is agitated by our situation."

"Do you think it was any different for me and your mother, my son?" Sarek responded, a hint of humor in his voice. "I lived with a Human spouse for more years than you have been alive. I am well acquainted with this agitation. So, let us speak frankly, Spock. Your Time is coming and your wife's Human fragility will not allow a natural completion this time."

"More than that, she is beyond Human child-bearing years now. She is incapable of conception. I feared it might be so during my last Burning and was caught by surprise when our youngest two were conceived. However, this time it is certain. I fear I will incapacitate or perhaps even kill her when I go into _plak tow_." Spock paused, visibly uncomfortable. "Will you help us hire a surrogate and arrange for her transportation here? Christine and I cannot arrange the time to leave our responsibilities and our children to travel to Vulcan, endure the Burning and travel back."

"Understood, my son." Sarek nodded his head slightly. "I shall make arrangements and contact you when the _reldai_ is on her way. You realize that this will be quite expensive, I presume."

"I have the means to afford it. In any case, we have no option."

"Of course. I will sign off now. Live long and prosper, my son."

"Peace and long life to you, Father … and my sincere thanks for your assistance." Spock held up his hand in _ta'al_ and then ended the transmission.

* * *


	2. Chapter 2

Dirty, bearded and exhausted, Sapel quickened his pace as Alpha Colony came into sight. He had been away for four months on his latest trek and the prospect of home, a bath, and a comfortable bed brought a smile to his sunburned face. He could see his parents' house among the scattering of private residences, but he determined to head first for the main complex where he could unload his samples of plants and minerals at the science labs.

The buildings seemed strangely deserted and quiet as he entered and made his way to his mother's office. Where was everybody? He could sense his parents through his subliminal mind link and, after dumping his pack and other gear in Christine's office, he followed his bond down through the corridors toward the dining hall.

Now he could hear voices, some raised, and finally slipped in through the doors and found the hall crowded with people, nearly all of the hundred or so scientists and settlers that lived and worked at Alpha. At the moment, there was one of the settlers, a big beefy man he recognized only as Baxter, standing and shouting angrily.

"This is the third one I've killed!" he was saying. "This one took my newborn colt last night! How long before they start going after my kids?!"

Sapel now spotted his father and mother sitting near the head of the group. He made his way over to them around the edge of the room, where he bent and hugged Christine and kissed her on the cheek.

"Sapel!" she whispered gladly and he could feel her happiness.

He saw Spock glance his way and this was accompanied by a likewise happy feeling, but the Vulcan turned quickly back to the speaker. As the head of this colony, he kept his focus on the man currently talking.

"What's going on?" Sapel asked his mother in a whisper.

"Colony meeting," she whispered back. "We've been having problems with werewolves." Her son nodded and straightened up to listen.

Another man stood, this one being one of the biologists. "It's been getting dangerous for my crews to work too far away from the settlement," he said. "We killed one of those things two days ago when it started stalking some of my people. We've either got to eradicate them in this area or bring armed guards to watch for them while we work."

A woman spoke up, fear trembling in her voice. "We didn't bargain for this when we moved here," she accused. "My husband's up working on the new starbase. I'm terrified every time he's gone on his work shift. I've got a new baby! What if something happens to her?!"

Sapel felt a double stab of grief and hurt from both his parents. This one had hit too close to home. His baby sister, T'Larin, the original T'Larin, had been snatched by a werewolf out of Christine's arms just minutes after her birth. Spock had chased it down and killed it, but it was too late to save the baby. Sapel had witnessed it and he, too, still remembered the terror and shock he'd felt.

He heard Christine give a small sniff and laid his hand on her shoulder in support. Spock's pain radiated through as well, but then the tall, solemn Vulcan rose to speak, holding up one hand for silence.

"I grieve with you, Mrs. Agati," he said softly. "As many of you know, my wife, Dr. Chapel, and I were stranded here for over fifteen years and we, too, lost a child to the creatures. I myself was nearly killed by a pack of them. I do not negate your fear and concern, but we cannot eradicate them as Dr. Boliver suggests. They are a keystone predator species and to remove them would destroy the ecosystem. But I also agree that something must be done to protect the colonists here. I am open to suggestions."

"Poison!" one person voiced loudly.

"Trap them and relocate them," said another.

"Put a barrier fence around the colony!" spoke up yet another.

There was a babble of voices until finally Spock held up his hand again. The voices died down. "I have heard all your suggestions," he announced, and he had, too. His Vulcan hearing had picked out, catalogued, and considered the myriad people talking over themselves. "I will disregard all those that advocate for death to the animals. Also, trapping and relocating them would amount to the same thing. As I have said, they are a keystone species. If we remove them, then the balance of nature will break down here. It has happened multiple times on Earth and on other planets. Only when the offending species was reintroduced did nature fall back into balance. I give you, as an example, the wolves of Yellowstone on Earth."

"Why can't we do something like that?" asked Dr. Boliver. "I mean, set up a reserve for them and the other animals and only allow them to live there."

"Doctor, we are a very small group living together on this planet, which is the original home of none of us," Spock answered, while giving a mental nod toward his son and two other of his children. Those three were natives of this planet, but essentially were interlopers on Avalon as well.

Spock continued. "It would be impractical to restrict the natural movements and lives of the animals who have evolved on this planet. No, I suggest just the opposite, as someone voiced a few moments ago. It might be enough to erect a barrier fence around the colony, perhaps of one square mile, that would keep the werewolves out and ourselves safe. When outside that fence, Dr. Boliver, and you others whose jobs take you out for work, side arms will be worn at all times and watchers with larger weapons will stand guard so that you can work without fear of attack."

There was a general murmur of agreement, with a few negative grumbles mixed in. Mrs. Agati lifted her hand again. "I have another question for you, Commander. Why do you call them 'werewolves'. That's a mythical beast and, anyway, they don't look anything like wolves."

Christine stood up beside her husband and replied for him, "I can't really tell you that, Millie. It was just something I called them when we were first stranded here. I thought about wolves in the old fairy tales and in real life, only these were worse than Terran wolves. The name just stuck. We named a lot of species after things they reminded us of."

"They look more like big rats to me," Mildred Agati responded in disgust.

"Actually, they are reminiscent of the extinct Australian thylacine," Spock interjected. "The marsupial Tasmanian tiger. We perhaps should form a group to study them and formally name them with a Latin designation. That is, after all, what the biology group is here for. Dr. Boliver, is this something your section could handle?"

"Yes… We'd been working on several other species, but it's a good idea."

"Excellent," the Vulcan answered. "I will be happy to assist you with my own knowledge of these creatures. Meantime, shall we simply refer to them as 'wolves' and also proceed with erecting a barrier? Mr. Jackson, that would be engineering's purview, I believe."

A tall black man in the back acknowledged him. "I'll get right on that, Mr. Spock." He turned to several men sitting with him and they lowered their heads together in discussion.

"Is there anything else we need to add to the agenda?" Spock queried, looking around. "Very well, thank you for your attention, ladies and gentlemen. I suggest we all return to our jobs."

The gathering broke up and Spock turned to his son. "Sapel, I am pleased that you have returned safely. Did you have any problems?"

"No, Pa. I walked all the way to Beta Colony and back this time. I brought back a lot of samples of rocks and minerals, plus some interesting looking small animals and plants. I left my pack in your office, Mama."

"I'll turn them over to the science departments and let them get started on something a bit less scary than werewolves," Christine smiled. "Meanwhile, I'll bet you're hungry."

"Hungry, thirsty and tired!" her son nodded, then rubbed his chin through his dusty black beard. "I need a bath and I think I'll get rid of _this_, too. I remember how Papa always shaved during the summer."

"Indeed," his father nodded. "Now you know why. Summer is hot enough without sporting a coat of hair on one's face."

He motioned his wife and son to proceed ahead of them and they left the dining hall for the short walk down the path to their home.

* * *


	3. Chapter 3

"Sapel!" screamed Soran and leapt to his feet, knocking over his chair in the process. His twin sister T'Larin was right behind him, the two six-year-olds swarming all over their older brother.

"Hey, squirt," the tall young man answered. "Hey, sprout." He hugged both, then his two other sisters, T'Jenn and T'Kai. None of them had known that he had returned earlier that afternoon. After his visit to the main complex, he'd marched down the path to their home, where he lazed in a hot bath, scrubbed himself clean and washed his hair, then stood over his bathroom sink and carefully shaved. His long black hair was now pulled back into a ponytail and trailed down his back. He'd had a meal, then returned to his room for a nap, closing the bedroom door as it was while he'd been gone.

"When did you get home?" asked Jenny, his sixteen year old sister, leading him back to the dining table with the little kids still hanging on him.

She was nearly grown, he thought. A real woman now. "A few hours ago," he answered then reached out to drag his middle sister, T'Kai, into a hug. "Hey, Kai." This sister was thirteen now, looking as pure Vulcan as Jenny did not.

"Sit down, please," spoke up their mother, carrying a soup tureen in from the kitchen. "Jenn, would you bring in the bread and, Kai, you get the water pitcher?"

"Yes, Ma," both girls answered and pulled themselves away from Sapel.

Spock came in from the master bedroom and seated himself at the head of the table. The little kids were extremely excited, talking at the same time, demanding to hear their brother's adventures. "Sit!" their father commanded and the twins reluctantly took their places.

Christine and the girls finished bringing in the food and soon all were seated. "A moment of silent meditation before we eat," Spock announced solemnly and the familiar ritual served to calm down the kids and allow peace to descend on the family meal.

When the moment had passed, Christine ladled out rich, vegetable heavy stew onto the soup bowls of her twins, the rest of the family members serving themselves. Spock poured water for each and handed the glasses down. Soon there were the sounds of mealtime filling the room. Conversation centered around Sapel's trip to Beta Colony and what he had seen and done on his travels.

"Did you bring me anything?" Soran finally asked his brother, bouncing a little in his chair. It had been obvious that this was what he really wanted to know.

"Of course I did," the tall young man replied. "I told you I would."

"Me, too?" asked T'Larin a bit hesitantly.

"You, too, sprout," Sapel replied. "Soran, do you still have your medicine pouch?" At the little boy's eager nod, Sapel answered, "Can you go get it?"

Soran turned his blue eyes pleadingly on his mother, who nodded. He immediately jumped up and ran down the hallway towards his room. T'Larin wilted a little in her chair, looking disappointed.

Sapel smiled at his little sister. "Do worry, Lari. I've got something else for you" and watched as she perked up. She and Soran both looked as Vulcan as their father except that both had their mother's blue eyes. It made an interesting combination and Sapel mused that both would be exceptionally handsome as they grew.

Soran was back and seated, eagerly awaiting to see what Sapel had brought him. Deliberately drawing out the suspense, Sapel finally reached into the pocket of his shirt and brought out a little golden cube and handed it over to the boy.

"Iron disulfide," Spock commented.

"What?" asked Christine.

"Pyrite," her husband replied. "Also known as fool's gold. Where did you find it, Sapel?"

"In the mountains west of here. There was a multitude of these crystals scattered around there. Not good for anything but very pretty." Soran was delightedly examining the little cube, its perfectly square planes reflecting the light of the dining room glow panels.

"Did you shape it?" Christine questioned.

"No, Ma. Pyrite crystals naturally form this way. It's just the way the molecules in it line up." He turned to Soran. "Put it in your medicine bag and keep it safe."

"I will. Thanks, S'pel!"

T'Larin was looking with half interest, half disappointment as her twin did just that. Sapel turned his attention to her. "I brought you something, too, Lari." He reached into his pocket and drew out a little leather bag on a strap. "Your own medicine pouch to wear and keep extra special things in. And to put in it--" He held out his hand, palm up, and showed her what he'd found.

It was a little fossil, a coiled shell of some long extinct creature resembling a nautilus. No bigger than a coin, it was perfectly formed and had an opalescent sheen on it. The little girl squealed and seized it. "Thank you, Pel! I love it!"

"It's very special so keep it safe."

"I will!"

"Okay," Christine interrupted. "You two – time for bath and bed. Scoot!"

The twins got up and both hurried around to hug their brother, then disappeared down the hallway.

"I'll get them started," T'Kai volunteered and followed them.

"She just doesn't want to do dishes," Jenny commented, but without rancor. She wished she'd thought of it first.

As she cleared the table and went into the kitchen to begin feeding the dishes into the cleanser, Sapel spoke up. "I'll help with that."

"No, you're tired," Christine interrupted, leaning over to reach for the soup tureen to put away the leftovers. "Talk to your father. This won't take but a few minutes."

As she leaned over the table, arms outstretched, her large breasts strained against her cotton top, pushing against the fabric so that the neckline displayed cleavage and the imprints of her nipples showed. Spock felt a pulse of desire that caught him by surprise. And, as Christine stood, Sapel slid his arms around his mother's shoulders and kissed her soundly on the cheek.

The stab of pain and anger that pierced Spock's brain seemed to come out of nowhere and he ordered through clenched teeth, "Let her go! Wife, it is time for bed! Now!" He felt consumed with irrational jealousy and rage, his blood beginning to turn to lava as lust for his wife flowed through his body.

Both mother and son turned to stare at him, Christine feeling the same unreasonable fury and hunger, and immediately identifying it. She carefully set the tureen back on the table. "Sapel, could you finish clearing the table for me?" she asked softly.

Sapel recognized it, too. He'd seen Spock in this state before. Slowly he stepped away from his mother and replied, "Sure, Ma. I'll take care of that."

Spock rose to his feet like a jungle cat about to pounce and seized Christine's wrist, pulling her toward him. "Bed," he ground out, glaring at his son dangerously. "Now."

With that, he retreated down the hall to the master bedroom, never taking his eyes off Sapel nor letting go of Christine's arm. The door to the bedroom slammed behind them and Sapel heard the lock click into place.

T'Jenn came out of the kitchen and stood beside her brother. "What's going on?" she asked but in a wary voice. She'd overheard everything.

"Jenn, I need to talk to you," Sapel replied, still staring at the door to the master suite. "Let's get all of this cleaned up first. Then I want to see you and Kai in my bedroom."

* * *


	4. Chapter 4

Spock slapped the door lock then slammed Christine up against the wall, gripping her wrists above her head. "_Mine!_" he ground out, pressing his body against hers. "You are _mine!_ You will not touch him again!"

Before she could answer, he crushed his lips against hers in a bruising kiss. There was no affection in it, only possession. She didn't fight him. It would only make it worse. She knew what this was and could feel his arousal against her groin.

When he finally lifted his head for air, Christine became submissive, attempting to calm him down. "I'm yours, Spock, and I always will be. My husband, quench yourself in my waters. I await you."

The crushing grip of his hands on her wrists loosened and she was able to pull herself free. Pushing him back just slightly, she shoved down her pants and underwear, letting them slip to the floor and stepping out of them. The fire in his eyes increased and he quickly opened the fly on his pants and freed his erection. She slid one leg up around his hips, her arms around his neck, opening herself to him.

He took her there against the wall, awkwardly slamming into her until he grunted and came. Then he grabbed her hips and picked her up, stumbling toward their bed. Once he had dropped her there onto her back, he mounted her again and immediately began thrusting into her with desperation, until finally he gave another deep groan, shuddered and finally collapsed onto her.

His fires had cooled. "I'm sorry, Christine," he murmured against her neck. "The time will be upon me soon. Why hasn't the surrogate arrived? I can't wait much longer!"

"It's a long way from Vulcan," his wife murmured, wiping the sweat from his face. He rarely sweated, but this was one of the times that forced moisture from his body. "She will get here in time. Sarek won't fail you."

Spock lifted himself from her and stood shakily, reaching to do up his trousers, then paused. "I must clean myself," he said almost distractedly.

"Just get undressed and come to bed," Christine responded, sitting up. She stripped off her top, now wet with perspiration. "Or better yet, let's take a shower … together."

He looked up at her and some of the fire began to come back into his dark eyes. His penis gave a twitch and her cool, cat-like gaze caused the breath to leave his mouth in a quick huff. Without further thought, he quickly took off his clothing and moved toward her. They did not make it to the shower until much later.

* * *

"Close the door," said Sapel, sitting on the side of his bed. Jenny did as she was told and the two girls moved to find seats.

"What's wrong with Papa?" asked T'Kai, her black Vulcan eyes showing fear and concern.

"Yeah, I thought he was going to hit Mama," seconded Jenny.

"Sis, you _know_ what this is," answered her brother. "You remember back on Vulcan when it happened before. And I remember when it happened here on Avalon. I was seven years old that time. It was a long time before we were rescued and we were in the old Romulan ship."

"What Romulan ship?" T'Kai looked puzzled.

"That's a long story. I'll tell you about it another time. Anyway, it was horrible. I had to leave and go stay out by myself until it was all over." Sapel's gaze turned inward and his slanted brows bunched together at the memory.

"So, is Papa sick?" the younger girl insisted.

Sapel sighed and brought his dark brown eyes back up. "Kai, Vulcans don't talk about this. It's a really taboo subject, but you need to know. Both of you. Papa's going into _pon farr_."

The sisters exchanged glances. "What's that?" queried T'Kai. She'd been very young, only six years old, the last time. She didn't remember it at all.

"I know what it is," Jenny replied softly, looking uncomfortable. "It's a mating drive, isn't it? Papa needs to mate with Mama. It's like rut in the animals."

"Well, to put it in plain terms," Sapel nodded. "It's something that happens to Vulcan men about every seven years once they reach maturity. All three of us, plus the twins, were conceived that way.

T'Kai squirmed uncomfortably but T'Jenn leaned forward to meet her brother's eyes. "He's going to get worse, isn't he? Either we'll have to leave or they will."

Sapel nodded. "Last time, Mama sent me to Risa with Granny to get me off planet. You two were taken care of by the ladies at Keldeen. But Mama and Papa left to go up into the hills to a place the family had just for that. It was so bad that they both ended up in the medical center. Papa had nearly killed Mama, he was so violent. I don't know what will happen this time. She isn't as young anymore."

"Are they going to have another baby then??" asked T'Kai.

"That's the problem," her brother answered. "I think Mama's too old now. With a Vulcan woman, it wouldn't be a problem. Vulcans live twice as long as Humans and can go on having children when they're over 100. But Humans aren't like that." He paused and gulped. "He hurt her _bad_ last time and this time…" He couldn't go on.

Kai lifted her hands and half covered her face, her eyes bright with moisture. "Mama's going to die?" she said in a quivering voice.

"No, she's not going to die," Jenny assured her little sister, putting an arm around her shoulders. "They'll have figured out something, although I don't know what."

"Back to the point," Sapel broke in. "I'm going to have to leave, to go somewhere away from here. Papa already sees me as a rival – he may do the same with Soran, although he's only seven. So was I that time and I had to get away from his presence."

"And all the men here at the colony…" responded Jenn, suddenly horrified. "Papa could kill them all as rivals. How are they going to handle that?"

"Mama and Papa will have to leave here, go somewhere away from everyone," Sapel answered. "It's the only thing they can do. Anyway, just be careful for the time being and don't say anything about any of this to anyone! Like I said, it's very taboo with Vulcans and it might set Papa off. We'll figure out something. Now, you two should probably go to bed. I'll think of something."

"Okay, good night, Sapel," replied the girls and left his bedroom.

But Jenny stuck her head back in and asked softly, "S'Pel ... are _you_ going to get _pon farr_? Be like Papa?"

"I don't know, Jenn. I truly don't know." Sapel's face was pale. "I'm mostly Human, so maybe not, but I really don't know."

Jenny nodded and closed the door behind her. The young man turned out the light and lay down on his bed, hands behind his head. He didn't figure on getting any sleep this night.

* * *


	5. Chapter 5

Spock woke early the next morning with a pounding head and a dry mouth. He was naked and his body felt sticky and soiled. Christine was asleep beside him, likewise unclothed, and he could see bruises on her shoulders and neck. With a stab of horror, he tried to remember their frequent mating of the night before, of how rough it had gotten, and Spock realized that he had been on the edge of _plak tow_, when he had taken her again and again and barely remembered it. Worse, he had not initiated a protective mind meld with her, blanketing her in safety from the full experience of _pon farr_.

Reaching over, he gently shook her shoulder. "Christine? Wake up, _t'hyla_. Are you all right?"

She groaned and stretched, wincing. "Yikes!" she said. "I feel like I've been beaten with a primasite rod!"

"I will not claim that comparison, but we became quite energetic last night," Spock replied, attempting a bit of humor to soften the situation. "Please, I need to examine you. I believe I may have injured you in my enthusiasm."

"No, I'm okay," Christine answered, pushing herself up in bed. Besides the bruises on her body, she also felt abraded between her legs and pushed the sheet down to take a look. "I'm bleeding," she commented. "I may have to sneak one of Jenny's pads. I don't think I still have any."

"Pads?" her husband queried, puzzled.

"Oh, for God's sake, Spock, she's sixteen. She went through puberty four years ago and has been menstruating since then. She's a young woman now. T'Kai hasn't started yet, but I'm expecting it any time. Unless her Vulcan heritage keeps her on that track."

He darkened a bit in his cheeks and nodded. "Well, nevertheless, we need to get cleaned up and dressed," he responded. "We will be late for work otherwise."

Christine smirked a bit. "It'll still be there if we come in late," she answered. "But we both need to shower – separately this time! I'm sticky and sweaty and stink to high heaven! You're not much better!" Her expression sobered. "We nearly crossed the line last night, didn't we, Spock? It's really close now, isn't it?"

Spock nodded, now serious, as well. "I must call my father and see when we can expect the surrogate to arrive. If it is much longer, I fear I cannot maintain control. "

"We'll make it, darling. Just hold on!"

With that, Christine rose and quickly slipped into the bathroom, where Spock could hear the shower come on. Rising, he put on his robe and cinched it closed, then stripped the soiled bed and dumped the sheets aside to feed into the cleaner unit before he and Christine headed to their jobs at the colony complex. Being the CMO here, Christine could mend her bruises and scrapes once she reached her office.

When the bed was made, he sat down at his computer and fed in the coordinates for his father's home console. It took about five minutes for the subspace signal to make its long, long way to Vulcan, then the signal showed that it was rerouted back to somewhere between the two planets.

At last, Sarek's face came on the screen, looking as if he had been woken out of a sound sleep. His hair was tousled and his eyes were half-closed. "Spock," he said without further greeting.

Spock realized that his father had been asleep. "Father, I apologize for breaking your slumber. You are not on Vulcan."

"No," Sarek answered. "I am aboard the _K'Lel q'Lahr_. We are en route to Avalon."

"That is my purpose in calling. I need to know the ship's location. My Time is growing near."

"We should arrive in four point three ship days, my son," the older man replied. "The _reldai_ is aboard and readying herself for you. How do you fare?"

"Not well," Spock answered, looking bleak. "Last night I felt myself slipping into _pon farr_ and barely held control of myself. I felt the need to mate repeatedly and did some injury to Christine. Hopefully that activity will help me keep control for a few more days."

"We are proceeding at top speed, my son. Meditate constantly if you must. I will contact you as soon as we reach orbit."

"Thank you, Father," Spock said, closing his eyes and bowing his head. He signed off and sat thinking for a few seconds, then dialed up his subordinate at Alpha Colony Administration. When the middle-aged woman answered, he noted that she was already in her office. "Lillian, good morning. I will be working at home today," he told her. "I will not be in the office unless you need me."

"No problem, sir," she answered. "We've got the bio department working on the wolf problem. I'll contact you if we need you."

"Very good." Spock closed the connection and leaned forward with his face in his hands. The burning within him was starting again and he clenched his teeth then sucked in a deep breath. He could feel his link to Christine strengthening and his mental image of her nude body in the shower, water running down her breasts and torso, dribbling through the hair at the juncture of her legs, hot and steaming, nearly undid him. He had to grit his teeth together and concentrate on focusing his control.

At last he had mastery of himself and rose to make sure the kids were up and ready to leave for school. Then he would come back to his bedroom after Christine left and meditate for the remainder of the day.

* * *

Sapel was standing on top of a small hill, a phaser rifle propped on his right hip, his dark eyes scanning for any sign of movement that might indicate danger. Not far away, a group of men and women were working, collecting plants and small animals for analysis and classifying, another group taking soil samples. The hot summer sun was approaching noon, when they would cease work for the day and return to the cool confines of the colony laboratories to begin the afternoon work. It was too hot at this time of year to continue into the latter part of the day.

The young Vulcan was used to it, but all the same wore a shady hat and sunglasses that protected him from the heat and glare as he stood guard over the science team. He had elected to stay away from Spock as his father had sunk farther into his Time of Burning and became more irrational. Sapel still didn't know what his parents were going to do, but he was ready to get the kids away to a safe place and protect them.

He worried about Soran, too. The boy was nearing seven, when young male Vulcans went through the ritual of _kahs’wan_, but Sapel didn't know if his brother was expected to do this or not. He himself had gone through this coming of age when he was seven, but it had coincided with another instance of _pon farr_ in his father and he'd had to leave for his own safety.

Sapel allowed his mind to drift back to that time. They'd been at the crashed Romulan ship in the hills south of here and the boy had considered his ritual simply a fun time for himself and his pet kit, Mooch, to be free and to play. However, the site had been invaded by Cardassian pirates bent on taking them as slaves and one of them had vaporized Mooch when she'd attacked him. Then the traumatized boy had been forced to fight for his life, not knowing that his father in his rage had killed two other pirates before going into full _plak tow_ and the complete rutting stage of the condition.

Sapel shook his head. No, he didn't want his little brother to be forced to go through something like that. All of the children were more Human than Vulcan and Sapel hoped that they would be spared the more extreme of Vulcan physiological conditions. Besides, Soran hadn't been raised as he had, practically alone in the wilderness of this planet. Soran had been born on Vulcan amidst all of the civilization that planet had offered. He'd spent his early childhood at the family estate of Keldeen, surrounded by quiet and affectionate family members, gone to early schooling with the other small children there, been doted on by his grandparents and siblings. He simply wasn't as mature as Sapel had been at the same age.

T'Larin was different. Although Soran's fraternal twin, she was more Vulcan, the same way that T'Kai was. She seemed to absorb knowledge and Sapel had felt her budding telepathic abilities nudging at his subconscious as she stretched her mind out. He'd felt no such abilities from Soran. Moreover, Sapel remembered the original babies that his mother had lost here on this planet. The fetus that would have been his brother had been miscarried when Christine had been attacked by a bull bison and nearly killed. Spock had buried the tiny body underneath a big willow tree near their cave home, praying to the Ancestors to hold the barely formed little boy's _katra_ in safety.

The original T'Larin, on the other hand, had been born full term, but while Spock had left the cave to dispose of the placenta and birth detritus, Sapel and Christine had been attacked by an old, grizzled werewolf which had snatched the newborn from her mother's arms in a horrific event that still haunted Sapel's nightmares. He'd only been about five at the time and remembered it vividly. It had ultimately nearly torn the family apart as Spock had nearly lost his mind and finally made a pilgrimage into the wilderness to commune with the Ancestors and recover.

Before he left, however, he'd buried the tiny mangled body of his daughter next to her brother and again prayed to his forebearers to guide her _katra_ to the _a'Tha_ where Vulcan souls resided and mingled.

Many years later, when the little family had been rescued, the last thing they all did was to revisit the gravesites and bid farewell to their lost children. There, the distraught Christine had felt the faint traces of her babies' _katras_ come back to her and, after the return to Vulcan, when they had been conceived during Spock's previous _pon farr_, the two had been reborn as the current twins.

Sapel shook his head. He didn't understand Vulcan metaphysics but had accepted that the Ancestors existed because he, too, had felt their presence. They were part of his own _katra_ and were always with him. Returning to his vigil, he scanned the landscape but all was still except for the science team. He did not sense danger today, although he knew it was out there.

* * *


	6. Chapter 6

Spock paced the house, angry at everything and nothing. His skin itched, his muscles ached, most of all, his groin pulsed with demand. He tried meditating without success and finally gave up.

With no other choice, he called Christine at her office in the colony medical center. When she answered, he demanded without preamble, "Come home! _Now!_"

She nodded. "I feel it. I will be there in a few minutes!"

And she was, running into the house and into his arms. They kissed frantically, devouring one another's mouths, but then he pushed her away and took her hand, leading her out the back door.

"Where are we going?" she asked, puzzled. She'd been expecting him to take her to bed immediately.

Instead, he pulled her to the little flitter parked at the rear of the house. "We must get away from here! We're going to the cave! We'll be left alone there!"

As the flitter lifted off the ground and headed east, she asked, "What about the kids? What about the surrogate?"

"Sapel will take care of the children," Spock answered tightly, barely able to focus on directing the craft in its flight. "And I can't wait for the surrogate! It's too late for that!"

Christine nodded. The madness of _pon farr_ was flooding over her, too. She was beginning to feel consumed with fire and reached up to open the top buttons of her tunic, but Spock reached out his right hand and stopped her.

"No! Do not taunt me!" he ground out. "I cannot stand it! Just get ready to grab the supplies as soon as we land!"

Christine glanced into the back seat and saw that he'd come prepared. There was a rolled blanket, a container of water, and some food bars stowed there. He'd had this planned, knowing what they needed in order to survive this time of madness.

It only took a few minutes before they reached the little valley where they had lived for so many years during their exile. The waterfall still tumbled over the embankment into the little pond, which emptied itself into the creek that ran on to the river a mile away. Shade trees swayed softly in the breeze and the hole in the side of the limestone bluff still beckoned.

Spock landed the flitter underneath one of the trees and killed the engine, wrenching open the door and tumbling out. Christine did the same and they both grabbed supplies, running to the cave opening. Inside, it was dark and cool, but smelled rank and lived in. They didn't care. No animal rushed to attack them and Christine hurriedly laid down the blanket on the sandy floor and began to strip off her clothes.

Spock seized her and crushed her to him, kissing her frantically and at the same time managing to get out of his shirt, kicking off his shoes at the same time. He was burning up, desperate to mate with his wife. Both their hands got her out of her pants and naked. Together they went down onto the blanket, groping at Spock's trousers to get them open and off.

Abruptly, from the doorway, a deep, savage growl interrupted them and then a heavy weight slammed onto Spock's back, knocking him off Christine and rolling him over. Teeth and claws flashed and he was fighting for his life with the occupant of the cave. He recognized it even as he was simultaneously fending off its talons and reaching for his own weapon. But his hand searched futilely. In his preoccupation with mating, he had forgotten to obey his own cardinal rule – never go unarmed. His knife was not on his belt.

The werewolf tore at him, trying to get a hold on his throat with its teeth, but now Spock had both hands around its neck. Christine had leapt up, too, attacking the animal with balled fists and screaming in fury. It was enough to distract the animal and make it turn its head just slightly toward its new enemy – and it gave Spock the opportunity to tighten his grip and keep the head turning, more than nature had intended.

There was a tremendous crack as he snapped its neck, turning its head nearly all the way around. The wolf went rigid and then collapsed onto Spock, shuddering in its death throes. All three antagonists went limp and lay for a moment in shock. Then the Vulcan shoved the dead wolf off of his body and moved to embrace Christine.

"Are you hurt?" he demanded, hands going over her nude body.

"No! Are you all right?"

"Yes! My wife!"

He frantically dragged her back onto the blanket and shed his bloody trousers at the same time. He was enormously erect, the combat serving to trigger the final stages of _pon farr_. He scrambled onto her welcoming body and moved into position between her thighs, his fingers going to find the psi points on her face.

And then he was within her, both mentally and physically. They were one. And as he shielded her mind from the physical torture of full and complete joining, neither of them cared that this Mating could be their last, for he would not cease until she had conceived his child or one or both were dead. And this time, she could not give him the child his body demanded.

* * *

Christine felt herself coming back to consciousness and realized several things at the same time – she could no longer feel Spock's weight atop her body, she could no longer feel his erection pounding away inside her womb, and, more alarmingly, she could no longer feel him inside her mind. No, that wasn't correct. She felt him at the periphery of her psyche, but he was no longer shielding her from the physical pain of the prolonged coitus.

Yet, he was still lost in the _plak tow_. She could sense him beside her, the heat of his body blazing against her side, and she also felt another body now, too. Forcing her eyes open, she turned her head in that direction and was shocked full awake to see him atop another woman – a petite Vulcan woman who lay serenely beneath her husband, her inky black hair spread out behind her.

Spock was still lost in the _pon farr_, his eyes rolled back white, his tensed hips pumping away between the woman's spread thighs, his fingertips crammed into her temples, as hers lightly rested on his. Moreover, Christine realized that they were no longer in the cave. They were now in a chamber aboard a ship, the elegant lines indicating that this was a Vulcan vessel. Cushions lined the deck where the three of them lay.

Clarity brought Christine understanding of what was happening. The woman was the surrogate, the _reldai_ whom Sarek had brought the long way from Vulcan, and he had arrived in time to save Spock's life. To save _her_ life as well, for she would have ultimately died as Spock's fevered body refused to cease the frantic mating until she conceived, now an impossibility.

Christine tried to shift away from the couple, but Spock immediately reached out and dragged her back against him. She was part of this. He must remain in contact with her, knowing she was there, before he could finish. Resigned, she allowed her naked body to remain snuggled against her husband and the other woman. She had never been attracted to sexual threesomes, but this was different. The surrogate was merely the physical receptacle of Spock's seed, but his mind must remain joined, as least superficially, with hers.

Throughout the time that passed – day? night? It was irrelevant in space – he stiffened and ejaculated several more times, then began again after a short respite, never withdrawing from the Vulcan woman's body. Sweat poured off his torso as he strained, near the limit of his endurance. Christine would stroke his back and hair, both drenched in the effort of the rut, until he began to hunch his hips again.

Somewhere during the long hours, Christine became aware that they were not alone. Other Vulcan women stood in the background, watching for trouble, but they were elderly and silent. They were here to attend the mating threesome and care for them when it was over. They were essentially invisible until needed.

Christine closed her eyes and allowed herself to fall into a light doze, exhausted. It was perhaps an hour or so later that she was jolted back awake as Spock gave a deep, agonized groan and came one more time. He lay frozen above the surrogate, his whole body quivering, then collapsed atop the Vulcan woman. And then he sighed with all his remaining strength and rolled off her, lying on his back, panting heavily.

It was over. Christine raised herself on her elbow and leaned over the _reldai_ to peer in concern at her husband. "Spock?"

The Vulcan girl opened her eyes and slid her delicate hands down to rest on her abdomen. "Spock-kam, I carry your gift to the Temple. We are finished."

Christine could only stare in something like horror at the other woman. Her meaning was plain. She had conceived Spock's child and this had released him from the _pon farr_. But he would not see this child nor its mother ever again.

Christine felt her eyes well up and she began to sob.

* * *


	7. Chapter 7

Something had changed. Sapel could feel it. He had been away for three days with the bio team as they worked in the hills to the south but had arranged for his siblings to stay in the quarters at the colony headquarters. He had been attuned to the madness of _pon farr_ in his parents and, after his talk with Jenny and T'Kai, the older girls had moved them all away from the house.

Now, as the bio team returned to the colony to process what they had collected, Sapel went to find his sisters and brother, but was told that they were back at home. The young man took this news nervously and, as soon as he had stowed his gear, he hurried the half-mile down the walkway to his parents' home.

Approaching with caution, for he didn't know what state of mind Spock would be in if he remained in the hormonal madness, Sapel carefully opened the back door and peered into the living/dining room. What he found brought him up short.

His siblings were quietly sitting around the dining table doing homework and, ensconced in one of easy chairs, calmly reading a PADD, was Sarek. They all looked up as Sapel stepped into the house then they all rose, the twins starting to run to their older brother.

"Walk," said their grandfather and instantly they obeyed, going to greet Sapel in a more Vulcan-like manner. Sarek too laid his PADD aside and got up, lifting his hand in _ta'al_. "Greetings, my grandson," the elder Vulcan said sedately.

"My greetings, _Sa-mekh_," Sapel replied, returning the salute. "I am surprised to find you here! What has happened?"

"I will speak with you when we are alone," Sarek replied. "Just know that your parents are safe and well. They are being treated aboard my ship and will return to you soon."

Sapel nodded. "Then … _it_ … is over?"

"Yes. Now, children, if you are finished with your work, please go to your rooms and wash for lastmeal."

"Yes, _Sa-mekh_," they all replied more or less in unison and all gathered their school materials and went down the hallway.

Once they were alone, Sarek faced the younger man and told him, "We reached Avalon almost too late. _Plak tow_ had already begun by the time we were in orbit with the surrogate your parents had hired."

"Surrogate? What do you mean?"

"Spock had contacted me ten days ago to inform me that he wished to hire a temple priestess to take the place of your mother during the _pon farr_," Sarek explained. "Your mother has passed the age of conception and therefore would probably have died during the Mating because of this." Sarek looked a bit uncomfortable, if that were possible, but continued. "It is something your grandmother and I did when she had reached that age. Humans are quite fragile and not built to survive some Vulcan facts of life. In any case, once we had arrived and Spock did not answer my communications, we scanned for them and found them some miles to the east of here, already engaged in the Mating in a cave."

Sapel nodded. "Yes. We lived there for much of the time they were exiled here. I was born there."

"We beamed them aboard and managed to get Spock transferred from your mother to the surrogate. Afterwards, we allowed the _pon farr_ to play out as it naturally would. They are now being cared for in the ship's sick bay. Both of them are well and should be back with you in a day or so."

Again Sapel nodded, then hesitantly asked, "_Sa-mekh_, I must ask this. Did … did the surrogate conceive? Is there to be another baby?"

Sarek sighed, suddenly looking his age. "Yes, grandson. She now carries your father's child … but it will not be his. Part of the price for surrogacy is that the child belongs to the Temple of Seleya. It will be born there and live out its life as a disciple of Seleya. Your parents will never know anything more about it, not even the name of the _reldai_ who will be its mother. And the child will never know whom its parents are."

Sapel looked distressed. "That hardly seems fair to anyone."

"Nevertheless, it has been the way for millennia on Vulcan. _Kai'idth_. What is, is." Sarek moved tiredly away. "Now, it is time you prepared for lastmeal. I am having it sent down from my ship. Go and wash and change."

"Yes, _Sa-mekh_. My thanks for your help in this matter."

"One does not thank logic, Sapel," the elder Vulcan replied, but laid a hand on his grandson's back. "Hurry now."

Sapel nodded and did as he was told.

* * *

Sapel had set out at dawn to walk the few miles to the valley in order to retrieve his father's flitter and supplies. He was armed, as usual, with a phaser and his Romulan knife, but did not expect any trouble. It was a beautiful morning and, although he enjoyed the loveliness and serenity of his home planet, his mind was troubled.

Part of his concentration turned to the fact that there was a child who had essentially been sold to the Vulcan temple in payment for their help in Spock's survival in his latest _pon farr_. Had his parents known this when they'd hired a surrogate? Did they understand that Spock would be giving up a child of his seed and never seeing him or her as long as he lived? Did he even know the surrogate's name? Or was anonymity part of the deal? Maybe Spock was okay with it, but what about Christine? She was Human and Humans did not give away their children without great torment.

And Sapel wondered if he himself would have to undergo _pon farr_ when he was a bit older. He was only a quarter Vulcan and still young. If so, whom would he be mated with? At one time, he'd wanted to marry a Risan girl he'd met while a teenager, Maia Hendrickson, but she'd made clear that she rejected him and he hadn't seen her in years. He still loved her, but there was little to no chance of him finding her before the fever made it imperative for him to take a wife.

No, it was more logical – and here Sapel snorted in irony – that his future wife was here on Avalon among the colonists' daughters. He resolved to begin looking around at the available young women, if not here at Alpha, then at Beta Colony. He'd never been to Gamma or Delta, either, because they were considerably farther away, but he might make the pilgrimage to one or both of them.

The banks of the little river came into sight and Sapel turned his attention to crossing, at this time of year very shallow, and making his way another mile or so to the valley where he'd grown up. He knew the way by heart. In the ensuing years, very little had changed and, within half an hour, he was back on familiar ground.

He was also more vigilant because here he and T'Jenn had been attacked by a wolf, which he had killed. He didn't remember there ever being so many during his childhood. Had something changed that had driven the creatures out of the woods to the east and southeast of here, or was the change due to the presence of the colonists and their livestock, which offered easier meals than the creatures' usual prey of woodland elk and plains antelope? That would be part of what the bio team would be studying.

Sapel spotted the family's little red flitter resting underneath the big shade tree near the cave entrance, its driver's side door flung open as his father had left it. That tree had been flattened by a tornado during his childhood, but had grown back quickly from the still living roots. It was now as large as he remembered it and he could picture his mother's working space there, shading her from the hot summer sun. It brought back a pang of nostalgia.

He approached the vehicle and peered inside. All appeared normal, including the starter tab still in its slot. Spock and Christine had been in a hurry when they'd left it, desperate to get into the safety of the cave and allow the mating to begin. He'd felt his father's urgency through their bond link and understood. It was a wonder he hadn't taken her then and there.

Drawing his phaser, Sapel proceeded cautiously up the path to the cave entrance. His sensitive nostrils told him that something was dead inside, the stench of putrification assaulting him. Approaching slowly, he peered inside, but nothing moved. Another step and he found the cause.

There was a dead werewolf lying crumpled on the sandy floor, its neck turned in an unnatural angle. Sapel peered around for others, but all was quiet. Slapping the phaser back against his belt within quick and easy reach, he stepped inside and let his gaze roam around the little cave. It was as he remembered it, the main room big enough to accommodate a family, the skylight serving as a chimney, the entry to a smaller room that served as a restroom through a crack in the floor that led to a deeper chamber with a stream running through it, and the more recent doorway that Spock had broken through to the sod addition they had built, now collapsed.

On the floor, Sapel could see where a blanket had been spread and two bodies had lain, frantically writhing as _plak tow_ had taken them in its heat. There was discarded clothing nearby, a container of water and some rations, never used. The blanket wasn't there, evidently beamed up with his parents to the Vulcan ship, but he gathered up the rest and took it back to the flitter, stowing it in the back. Then he returned to the cave on one more errand.

He needed to dispose of the dead werewolf. He couldn't bear to allow it to rot there in his former home and befoul the premises. It was already beginning to bloat but he stood for a moment, allowing his eyes to roam over the carcass. The beast was a female and marsupial, as were so many other animals on this planet. It resembled a cross between a huge rat and an extinct Terran predator from Australia. Stripes fanned across its flanks and its open mouth displayed cutting incisors and sharp bladed molars. Short powerful legs and a barrel chest gave evidence of its power, its feet tipped with retractable talons. The long almost-rodent tail stretched out behind it.

Sapel could see no wounds but the angle of its neck spoke of a Vulcan killed technique called _tal'shaya_. Spock had obviously killed it with his bare hands, twisting and snapping its neck, undoubtedly after the beast had attacked them. The younger man pondered for a moment taking the corpse back to the colony for the scientists to examine, but the stink was too much. He just wanted to dispose of it and get back home.

Grasping the tail, he dragged it from the cave and down to the little creek that burbled through the valley. There used to be stepping stones that his parents had placed there, but they were long since washed away in some valley flood. No matter, the water was barely ankle deep and Sapel had no trouble tugging the wolf through it and up the other side. There, on the top of the little rise of the creek's other bank, was what remained of a brush pile where they used to discard their unusable trash. It had long ago become overgrown with vines and it was here that he'd found Mooch, his pet kit. It was also here that Spock had fought to the death the old wolf that had snatched his newborn daughter from Christine's arms. It was long ago and nothing whatsoever remained.

However, this new predator would feed the surrounding scavengers until it too vanished without a trace. Nothing went to waste on Avalon.

Sapel left the wolf stretched out in the sun and started to turn away when something made him leap back and snatch his phaser up ready. The carcass had moved. He stared at it, alert for attack, but all was still.

Then it moved again, ever so slightly, and Sapel realized what he'd seen. The movement had come from the female wolf's pouch. She was carrying young! Keeping his phaser at ready, Sapel carefully knelt down and hooked a finger into the rim of the marsupial pouch, pulling it slightly open.

There were two babies inside, one of them obviously dead, but the other moved weakly and attempted to suckle at the dry, hardened teat to which it was attached. The pup was very young, its eyes still closed, nearly naked for lack of hair, and it was obviously desperately hungry as its mother's milk had been cut off abruptly. It squirmed and mewed, pleading with its dead mother for sustenance.

Sapel weighed with himself whether he should put it out of its misery, but couldn't bring himself to do it. It wasn't the baby's fault that it would grow up to be a vicious predator and Sapel remembered another baby that his father had brought home from hunting, after Spock had been forced to kill that mother as well. That one had been the hunting cat, Scruffy, and the young man's heart went out to the orphaned wolf pup. He had become responsible for this small life and he put his phaser up, reaching to bring the baby out of its mother's pouch.

It mewed again, too young to understand that its mother was dead, only that something warm and alive was holding it, something that might offer milk. Sapel couldn't do that, at least not until he got it back to the colony, but he could possibly save this infant's life. And, if nothing else, the scientists would have the opportunity to study the young werewolf and hopefully watch it grow. And, if at some point, it would have to be contained in a cage as young tiger cubs were when they grew too large to be handled safely, then so be it.

Sapel cuddled the pup against the warmth of his body and turned to walk back to the flitter and return to the colony. He had a new life to care for.

* * *


	8. Chapter 8

_Ten months later…_

"Push, my sister," urged the midwife attending the laboring woman in the birthing chamber on Vulcan. "The child is almost born. One or two more and your efforts will be over."

T'Pilda ducked her head and strained, willing the baby within her to finish its journey to life. She paused, took a breath, and bore down again as the next contraction took her. The woman seated between her legs reached to catch the head as it pushed out of the vagina.

"It has much dark hair," the midwife stated, pleased. "That is a good sign."

T'Pilda did not answer, too engaged in expelling the child's body. Another hard push and the baby was born, a female, covered in the mucous of the womb and bluish from lack of oxygen. The midwife wrapped it in the cloth she had waiting and turned the child face down to clear its lungs and nose. The baby girl gasped and sucked in her first breath, squalling in protest. Rapidly, her skin changed to a pale pastel green as oxygen flooded into her tiny system.

The new mother lay back and rested, her ordeal nearly over. She watched as the midwife cut the umbilical cord and continued to wipe the baby clean.

"I would see the child," she requested and the midwife held the baby close for the mother's inspection. "I am pleased to present this child to the Temple, my sister," she said. "I would have her named T'Zia t'cha Seleya."

"It shall be as thee wish," replied the midwife. "Is her appearance like her father?"

"Yes, it is so," T'Pilda answered. "I would share my secret with you, sister. Her father is the renowned Spock cha'Sarek, but none other must ever know this." The midwife had stared at her, clearly amazed before her curtain of Vulcan imperturbability covered her face once more. "This child is one quarter Human and may display such as she grows. We must be alert."

The midwife nodded and rose to take the baby to the weighing scales and swaddling cloths. As she did so, the newborn infant opened her eyes and peered up at her.

They were a very Human blue.

THE END


End file.
